


We'll Take Care of You

by AngryPirateHusbands



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Anger, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Coping, Everyone Is Gay, Feelings, Healing, Injury, Injury Recovery, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-14
Updated: 2016-10-14
Packaged: 2018-08-22 08:07:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8278814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngryPirateHusbands/pseuds/AngryPirateHusbands
Summary: "We'll take care of you." It has been months since the loss of his leg, and yet these words still haunt Silver. After a particularly rough week the injury is agitated with infection and Flint is left with trying to talk some sense into the man.
Takes place between S2 and S3.





	

Flint could hear the commotion before he even reached the room Doctor Howell used for his practice. The man was standing outside the door with blood staining his fingertips a bright red. A soaked rag was held in his fist and his expression betrayed his exhaustion. The Captain gave him a curt nod as he drew closer. Just then the shouting ceased and Billy came out of the room. The moment the door shut something heavy slammed against it. Billy took a deep breath before giving Flint a dark look. "He definitely has your temper," he noted before pushing past him.

"What seems to be the problem?" Flint asked Howell in hushed tones, nodding towards the room.

"The infection has returned. He refuses to stop wearing the iron boot, even though I have clearly told him numerous times that if the tissue damage spreads, well.. He's going to lose more of his leg. I was hoping Billy would be able to help, but apparently not." He gave the Captain a pointed look. "Please talk some sense into him."

Flint had long noticed that Silver was having difficulty coming to terms with his injury. While he had not been there, the men had relayed how vehement the man had been about not wanting his leg to be removed. Even though the amputation had saved his life, he could understand the bitterness that quelled in his heart. They had gone against his wishes and taken something from him. Flint had never experienced such a loss but he was sure that it weighed heavily on him. After all, he could see it. The quartermaster had changed drastically since the event. Despite the fact that he should be resting the man was obsessed with proving his worth. He was taking on the work of three men. It was no wonder that the injury was agitated.

When Flint entered the room Silver was sitting perched on the table. "Please leave me alone," he muttered. Flint stooped down to grab the medical text he had apparently thrown after Billy. He returned it to the shelf before looking back at his quartermaster. One hand gripped his leg above the stump while the other reached behind him for the metal boot. The captain moved swiftly and grabbed the prosthetic before he could get his hand on it. Silver gave him a harsh look. "What are you doing?"

"You are not to wear this until your leg has healed."

" _What?_ " Silver seethed.

"You heard Howell. If you are not careful more of your leg will need to be amputated. Is that what he want?" he demanded. "To go through that pain again?!"

Silver just shook his head. "Fuck you."

Flint's gaze hardened. He set the prosthetic against a shelf on the far side of the room before moving to stand in front of the man. The look he gave him now was one of utter defiance. "You need to rest." Flint's tone was serious.

Silver's eyes closed as he shook his head. His hand gripped the edge of the table until his knuckles turned white. Part of him wasn't sure if it was from pain or anger. After a moment the man finally spoke. "Do you know what they said to me?" he asked, his tone now suddenly much softer. " _We'll take care you._ I do not want to be taken care of. I do not want to be a burden on this ship." He shook his head once more, his jaw clenched. "I will earn my place on this crew if it kills me. I will not let the others carry my weight for me."

Flint's gaze remained stern. "You will rest," he said once more, this time the words carrying the tone of an order. "You will use the crutch like you are supposed to so that you can heal. And you will use the rigging we have set in place for you."

Silver released a trembling breath. "You don't understand," he muttered.

"I do understand," Flint hissed through clenched teeth. "I cannot say that I understand your pain, physical or otherwise, but I do understand your fear. You have finally come to a place where you care about these men. Where you _need_ these men. And now you're terrified that you will be tossed aside. But listen to me carefully." He paused until Silver looked up at him. "You need to do as Howell says. If you do not take the time to heal, then you _will_ become a burden. You are the quartermaster now. You need to remain strong, and you cannot do that if you are taking every opportunity to see yourself fail." Flint could tell that Silver was about to argue and he raised his hand to silence him. "Let yourself regain your strength. Use the crutch for at least a week. If I see you in that boot I will throw it into the ocean. Is that understood?"

Silver glared up at him and Flint leaned closer. " _Please_ ," he urged him, this time with a softer tone. "If this had happened to anyone else, you know you would be giving my same argument."

The quartermaster's gaze faltered and he sighed. "Fine," he resigned meekly. Flint's features softened and he pressed a light kiss to his forehead. Moving across the room he fetched one of the crutches and leaned it against the table beside him. Flint gave his shoulder a final reassuring squeeze before leaving the room.

Howell was waiting outside with a curious look and he nodded. "Clean him up and do all you can. He will be staying away from the iron boot for a while," he assured him.


End file.
